Chicken Soup for Gold Saints
by Kounellii
Summary: Aphrodite finds a book from the series, "Chicken Soup for the Soul" in the Garden of Narcissus. He passes it along to the others. Each finds a story that rekindles their childhood, mistakes, and relationships with the other Gold Saints. Ch8: Camus' Luck
1. From Rose to Crab

**Chicken Soup for Gold Saints** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

Author's Note: Deathmask is at least an honest jerk. In Episode.G v4, a Titan enters Cancer House and says humans are all evil. Deathmask replies, "You said humans are evil? Maybe. I am _especially_ evil" (translation by Wakachi au Chikara). This fanfic takes place before classic Saint Seiya (or in Episode.G).

FYI, **Chicken Soup for the Soul** is a book containing stories from various authors that teaches you life lessons, warms your heart, etc. "Chicken Soup for Deathmask," was renamed after I completed his story.

_Disclaimer:_ I disclaim Saint Seiya. Go Masami Kurumada-sensei!

-+From Rose to Crab+-

_Hmm… where'd that Deathmask get to?_

A pale, beautiful man with light blue hair looks into each room he passes.

"Deathmask! Deathmask! DEAAATHMAASK!" yelled Aphrodite.

After walking all the way from the 12th House of Pisces down to the 4th House of the Giant Crab, he's got to be pretty crabby himself.

"STOP YELLING! I heard you the first time!" hollered back Deathmask.

He was wearing his Gold Cloth, but it wasn't looking too spic-and-span. On the contrary, there were specks of blood everywhere due to what he's carrying in his hand.

Aphrodite hurriedly rushes forward but stops abruptly.

"Eh, what's that in your— UGH! Not another one, Deathmask."

Aphrodite tilts his head down to examine the cause of dripping blood all over the floor. "What? Did he make fun of your headpiece? Poor guy."

He shakes his head, thinking back to the last victim that Deathmask off'd.

* * *

He recalled that the young boy, a new trainee, declared to all his fellow trainees that Deathmask sounded like a cheesy name and that anyone named that just made it up for attention.

Unfortunately for him, the real Deathmask had just come out of the woods from doing who-knows-what and grabbed the boy by the throat.

"AHHHHHHH! (chokes) Let me go!"

The trainee pummeled his fists against Deathmask's arms, but to no avail.

Deathmask sneers. "So, you think my name's funny do ya?"

The boy's eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"Please! (chokes) I—I was just joking! I—" pleaded the trainee, tears spilling out of his eyes.

Deathmask squeezed even tighter. (What a jerk eh?) "Hmm… you like jokes?"

The boy nodded.

"Okay, here's one. What did the little trainee say to the big bad Gold Saint?"

And a sickening sound like bones cracking was heard. The older trainees who ran and hid behind trees and boulders began to retch and vomit. The little trainee was face down in the dirt, his head at an impossible angle.

Deathmask's arm was still outstretched.

"He said, 'Nothing' because he was already dead. Heh... I get the last laugh, fool."

* * *

Aphrodite clucks sympathetically at the memory, shifting the book to his side. _Deathmask never had a sense of humor except for his own sick jokes. _

Aiolia, being seen as a traitor, insulted Deathmask whenever he could. So Deathmask always went back to Aiolia's old wounds about his older brother and his red hair.

_Although personally, I think red suits Aio_, thought Aphrodite wistfully.

"Hey! You got something to tell me or what? I've got a face to remove so get out."

Deathmask plunges the head onto a large wooden spike and begins to de-face the guy.

"Would you stop that! That's disgusting _and_ unhygienic!"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, Aphro. NOW GET OUT!"

Aphrodite, having had enough of the whole sick business, grabs the scalpel out of Deathmask's hand. He believed in power and that weaklings deserved to fall, but nobody deserves to lose their face! At least not literally.

Besides, Aprhodite could see the boy had a beautiful face if you just wiped off the blood. Such a shame it went to waste.

"What was that for? Why don't you go do Shaka's hair. Braid it or whatever!"

Deathmask stands up, vein throbbing and looking like the true menace of society that he's known for being.

"Angelo, you know Shaka hates it when I even try to put it in a ponytail. And your vein's throbbing."

"And who's fault is that!" Deathmask spat.

"Angelo, say it don't spray it. Here, I've found this book that one of the villagers dropped in the Garden of Narcissus," Aphrodite shoves the book into Deathmask's hand while simultaneously throwing the scalpel over his shoulder.

"Garden of Narcissus? Why didn't you just stay there? You must've felt right at home." Deathmask opens his mouth to give a loud raucous laugh.

But Aphrodite's too smart to fall for his taunt as he has other things in mind. Besides, the Garden of Narcissus was indeed his home-away-from-home.

"Look, just read a few pages and then tell me what you think. I'll just clean up this mess and you can scrub my new ice sculpture that Camus gave me for my birthday."

"Screw you! I've got to cut his face off before he starts decapitating. Otherwise his face will take longer to lose its' smell!"

"He's ALREADY decapitating! Just read okay, then I'll leave." _Sometimes you just have to bargain with idiots_.

Deathmask holds the book, flips the pages at light-speed, and said, "There. Done. Happy?"

"But you didn't even read it!"

"How do you know? We can read at the speed of light!" Deathmask waves the book violently in the air.

_Sometimes I wonder if you CAN read,_ thought Aphrodite exasperatedly.

"Don't wave it around like that! Can't you see it's a paperback?"

"Fine. Whatever already! I'm tired so I'll read it. Just don't throw away that head you got it?"

"Crystal."

Aphrodite smiles—widely.

::A bath later::

_Stupid Aphro! Always tries to get his way! And who said he could call me by my first name?_ He turns the book over in his hands._ **A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup** **for the Soul**? What the heck? Why give me a cookbook? Shura likes this crap—not me! Shit. This'll be a boring read._

Deathmask throws back the frayed curtains around his bed. He props his foot onto his bed to examine the stains better.

_Damn_. Deathmask looks at the splotches of blood on his boots. The cloth flies off and goes into its cloth box form. He couldn't exactly go to bed dirty now could he?

_"A Secret Promise Kept._"

And Deathmask reads on.


	2. Crab Soup

**Chicken Soup for Deathmask** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

_Mav's comments_: Yo! Thanks for the ecstatic reviews and criticism. Everyone, be prepared to witness Deathmask's past. Have a good laugh and cry my friends, because Crab man just had some chicken soup (sounds delicious). EDITED 12/11/10

_Disclaimer_: I disclaim Saint Seiya and, A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul's story, "The Secrets of Heaven and Hell" by: Friar John W. Groff Jr. (p.320-321) because I don't believe in plagiarizing.

"I confess I have _yet_ to learn that a lesson of the purest good may not be drawn from the vilest evil."  
-Charles Dickens, quoted from his own preface of Oliver Twist**  
**

-+Crab Soup+-

He had begun reading the book while lying on his back, but his arms got sore after awhile and he switched over to his front, arms and book resting on his frayed, yet strangely very clean pillow.

"You wish to know the secrets of heaven and hell?" replied the monk at last. "You who are so unkempt. You whose hands are covered with dirt…"

_Who does this monk think he is? I bet this guy's a ton of lard on sandals!_ fumed Deathmask, holding the book up with both hands, face pressed so close to the pages, his nose practically touches it. _Bah. Hope the samurai guy kills him! Hee hee._

He reads on. "You who are ugly and whose mother dresses you funny. You would ask me of heaven and hell?"

_Here it comes!_ as Deathmask grins evilly, obviously expecting a monk's head on a platter.

The samurai was not pleased and prepared to cut off the monk's head. His expression was full of anger and even his veins throbbed.

"WHAT THE—" exclaimed a shocked Deathmask.

"That is hell," said the monk gently, just as the sword began its descent. The samurai paused, overcome with compassion and love for the monk, who risked his own neck to teach him this. His eyes filled with tears.

"And that," said the monk, "is heaven."

Deathmask slowly sits up, still staring at the story. Then shakes his head at the thoughts that began to surface.

"Man… I need a shower."

Deathmask, without realizing it, had been reading for 5 straight hours now. He closes the book and makes a gesture as if to toss the book, but he realized he'd forgotten to save the page.

_Where's a frickin' bookmarker when you need one?_ muttered Deathmask. He massaged his eyes. Then he creased the corner of the page he was on. Hesitatingly, he gently puts the book down on his pillow, but not without a final word: "Stupid Aphro."

::Midnight::

After his unusually long bath, Deathmask rubbed his hair dry. He walked toward the entrance of Cancer House. The wind gently ruffles his dark blue hair. Deep in thought, he sits down on the top step into his House for the first time since becoming the Gold no Cancer saint.

_The moon… is just the same one that I saw all those nights ago… a half-moon._

* * *

I lived an ordinary life. At least for a poor boy in Italy back then. Don't know about nowadays, but before being poor meant you couldn't lead a straight life if you wanted to survive. I used to run with the other street urchins.

But we weren't too bad. Sure, we picked some pockets, but not like you never! Say what? But only from rich guys…

Wait a sec. I think there's some story book character who also did that… Robin something… Shit. Flower-boy just can't stop loading me with books.

Oh, wait. I stole that from Milo, right after he dumped some scorpions into my bath tub! Those guys think they've got me all figured out I tell 'ya.

Well. Prepared to be gonged punks!

So like I was saying, I was like any other kid. Me and my gang, we called ourselves Order of the Black Ravens (a la Harry Potter). Corny, I know, but it was our trademark. After we stole something, we'd slip a piece of paper with a tiny print of a raven on it. Ha, take that Robin Good or whatever!

And after we got us some food, we'd haul our old raft right on over to this small island off the coast of Italy. Our secret base.

Anyway, I get a headache just thinkin' bout it. Stupid Aphro! I told him and Shura about some of it... but they probably don't remember anymore. Too busy eating flowers and dicing anchovies. And they think my hobby rots!

Well, once I told those retards of a gold saint that when I was a kid, I dreamed of leaving Italy and traveling by sea. Me and the guys decided it together back then.

Sure, we'd fight over who got to design the boat. But who were we kidding? We ain't making a titanic!

After a few months, our 'boat' was complete. We just found an abandoned fisherman's boat and fixed it up. Nothing to it. It even had a lower deck and 2 rooms.

But after we set sail, things got crappy. The first three days were peaceful. But on the third night, a big ass storm hit… big.

The waves were rocking our boat so bad, we was all sliding from rail to rail. I was one of the youngest in our group. Think I was 5, but who's counting?

I remember, Boss (bet you guys thought that yours truly was the boss, ha! Can't say I blame 'ya!) was trying to hold onto me, but I was so wet, I slipped right through his fingers and out the opening in the rail.

Stupid storm. I was trying to stay afloat, but never did learn how to swim properly.

I _hate_ the ocean.

When I came to, I was in some straw bed. The walls were pure white. I threw the covers off and ran outside. All the houses were low with only 1 floor. They were all so white that it blinded me. Some houses in the distance even had pillars! Back home, houses were tall, skinny buildings scrunched up together.

And I knew that I was in another world.

::Three Nights Later::

I camped out in the woods for awhile. But that was also where I met the guy who would teach me everything.

It was early evening. And I was hungry.

_Damnit! None of my traps caught anything!_ But then I heard some growling that I knew wasn't good news.

I turned around quickly with a long stick held in front of me. _Man, of all the crap! Wolves! A whole bunch of 'em!_

So I did what any sane person with a long stick would do.

Ran the hell outta there.

"Somebody help me! Pleaaaase!" I screamed (manly I would add). So many frickin' branches hit me on the way. I dived for the ground (tripped he means).

I braced myself for jaws and drool. But all I heard were whimpering wolves. I looked up and I saw him.

The guy was wearing a silver-and-red colored armor (didn't know it was called Cloth back then). The moon was half full so there was just enough light to illuminate him, but not too much to frickin' blind me (I _hate_ bright light by the way).

"Whoa…!"

"You okay child?" Now that I think about it, he sounded like Mu, only manlier. He also looked a little like Saga, only with my current hair style. He began to walk away.

"WAIT!" I yelled, scrambling up on my feet.

"Is there something you need child? You should go home."

"Hey, I would if I had one."

The man stopped. He turned around, slowly facing the young Deathmask. "What do you mean?"

"It means what it sounds like."

_What a mouth_, thought the silver saint. He walked a little closer. The boy was wearing scraggly clothing with long unkempt blue hair. _He _looks_ abandoned..._

"You had better not be lying to me," he warned.

"If I was, I'd tell a better one."

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?" The silver saint asked with gentle humor. _This boy is just like him._

"That I lived in a castle."

The man fell silent.

_Uh-oh. Don't tell me he's gonna kill me!_

"Hmm… haha… HAHAHA!" And the man with the cool silver armor laughed his balls off.

_Jeez… Master acted like he never heard sarcasm before,_ thought-interrupted Deathmask in the middle of his reminiscing too!

The silver saint's laughter subsided and he regained his composure. "Child?"

"Yeah…" asked Deathmask slowly, afraid for what's coming next.

"Want to learn how to be strong?"

"You bet 'ur ass I do!"

And with that, I was led to Sanctuary. Yeah… Master Orion the Silver no Orion saint. What are the odds he'd get the cloth of his own namesake, eh? Man didn't know sarcasm from the truth. He was a good guy… he was like a father that I never had. Which I never had by the way. But all this didn't last long.

_EXTRA_: I paraphrased the narrator's parts for the Chicken Soup story that I used. As for Deathmask's master, I tried to find a constellation that wasn't presented in the Saint Seiya storyline and I was caught between Orion and the Hydra constellations. Please review! Too weird, too Deathmask-y?


	3. A Crabby Night

**Chicken Soup for Deathmask** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

_Kou's comment_s: CHICKEN SOUP FOR SHAKA IS NEXT! Chicken Soup for Deathmask is dedicated to Strausser! EDITED 12/11/10: includes additional background to what happened to Orion that I overlooked if you recall from the previous chapter where Orion is reminded of someone when Deathmask tells a sarcastic joke.

_Disclaimer_: I disclaim Saint Seiya until I can finally call it Saint Maverick.

-+A Half-Moon Moment+-

Sitting down, Orion and Angelo warmed themselves by a fire ((He did not earn the name Deathmask yet)).

"Is this all you want to do?" asked Orion, feeding the fire with more sticks.

Angelo shrugged. "Yeah, what's wrong with just sitting down and eating fish?"

"Nothing, but I thought after winning your Gold Cloth you'd go and maybe move a mountain."

"Why would I want to go and do a thing like that?"

The young Angelo, now officially a Gold Saint, was told by Master Shion that he could move into Cancer House. However, he just bowed and left without a word.

"You are now my superior," said Orion suddenly. Angelo looked up, startled at the sudden statement. The words had an echo of finality to it.

The young saint blinked and gave out a fake yawn. "Master, I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow!"

Angelo began walking towards his hut.

"You're heading in the wrong direction," said Orion quietly, but loud enough so that his former student could hear.

"So." And with that, Angelo resumed walking to his old shack. The wind began to pick up. Shivering, not just from cold, he hurried home.

::Midnight::

"This sucks," muttered Angelo to no one in particular. He threw the blanket back and jumped out his bedroom window. He took the old familiar path through the woods.

With a half-moon overhead, there was enough light through the leaves to show him the way. But he really didn't need the light, he could've walked the path blind-folded, or even backwards if he tried. Seeing the stump of a tree in a clearing, he paused.

_This was where I finally learned to charge up my cosmo… damn, I knocked this tree good_, thought Angelo smugly. He patted the stump which years later, he and his Master would sit on together for lunch. It was just wide enough for two people.

"So I guess I'm not the only one who misses it."

Angelo promptly fell off the stump that he just sat on. Rubbing his head, Orion came over and took him by the hand. He was only seven years old after all.

Angelo clasped his hand tightly around his Master's, wondering if this will be the last time he could ever do this.

"Master, you're such a pushover."

Orion chuckled, remembering all the times his student would give him an earful about him saving baby rabbits from foxes to helping the village girls milk wild cows. But he saw that Angelo was smiling too.

Without a word, they both walked toward the edge of the cliff and out of the woods. You could see the vast dark ocean with the reflection of a half-moon shimmering in the middle of it.

"Angelo, I want you to know something. It's going to make you throw up later, but please do your old Master a favor and hold it in," whispered Orion gently. Angelo crossed his arms and stuck his lower lip out; a sign of reluctance.

"Whatever."

In a serious but serene voice, he said into the night, "My love is like the wind. You can't see it, but you can feel it."

Angelo stared at his Master, who had closed his eyes. After what seemed like forever, he looked over at the ocean. The two solitary figures stood there, letting the wind wash over them.

* * *

"Master… if only you weren't kind hearted! Your kindness always killed people, it… it made me sad," cried Deathmask into the early morning. The wind blew, sending back the gold saint's hair as well as his depressing thoughts.

He remembered with intense grief of the news that his his master was killed. His master always tried to be on good terms with everyone in sanctuary. But one day, after a battle for the Aries gold cloth the trainee who lost went berserk. The Master of sanctuary pulled a younger Mu aside, as he gave the order for him to be stopped.

Deathmask seemed to see it all in a haze... Orion quietly stepped up to the man and told him that he understood. He told everyone to leave them alone. He offered a small smile and withstood the trainee's furious attacks. Orion was a Silver Saint and was older than the trainee. The trainee was nearly on Gold Saint level.

Only his ego prevented him from truly reaching higher. Eventually Orion fell.

After closing his eyes, Deathmask reflected back to the peace of those moments. A lark sings in the distance, accompanied by the wind.

* * *

"So what? Wanna fight?" growled a red-haired Aiolia. They were all standing in the entrance of Leo House. It didn't take Deathmask long to get there because they were neighbors, but it did take him all day to force himself to go there.

"Just go back, go to bed, and brush your teeth… or, or you can have some chicken soup," finished Deathmask lamely. He stood up tall to make sure Aiolia didn't start teasing him, challenging him with a glare. But his blush gave his embarrassment away.

"EHHHHHHHH?" yelled Aiolia and Lithos at once. Aphrodite, who was watching the three from behind a pillar, smiled quietly.

"WHAT KIND OF INSULT WAS THAT?" Aiolia blinks.

He just couldn't believe what he just heard. An invitation. Coming from the mouth of the Menace of Society.

Lithos' eyes widen. _Deathmask-san has a lot of mood swings._

Aiolia pouts, wondering whether Deathmask has given up his evil ways… or just got brain-damage.

* * *

"Hey, don't expect me to act like this everyday."

Aiolia calmly walks past Deathmask, facing the exit while Deathmask faces the entrance holding an empty pot in his crab-embroidered kitchen gloves.

"I didn't even expect you to act like that _period_."

Aiolia's face was in shadow, but slowly he lifts it up into the moonlight and looks over his shoulder at Deathmask.

"But I got to say, you're one heck of a cook… ANGELO!" Aiolia lets out a roar of laughter, walking out towards his home.

For a brief moment, Deathmask tightened his grip on the pot and prepared to fly it at the Leo saint... but he just takes a deep breath. Sighing, he puts the pot down and points the ladle toward the Orion constellation.

"That was for you Master, so don't complain that I've never been nice to another human being at least once in my lifetime! With an added bonus of being nice to the guy I hate!"

The stars that made up the Orion constellation blinked in the serenity of the dark sky.

Owari.

_EXTRA_: If you got the hint of Aio's red hair from ch.1, then you'll know that this took place in SS Episode.G/before Saint Seiya. Lithos is the girl who assists Aiolia. The following chapters will be a series of oneshots of each Gold Saint. Please review!


	4. Shaka Love

**Chicken Soup for Shaka** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

Kou's comments: This takes place in SS episode.G/before Saint Seiya started. Aiolia and Shaka are 15 years old. Lithos is the name of the girl in Episode G who serves Aio but no need to read Ep.G for my story though.

Disclaimer: I disclaim Saint Seiya and A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup's "The Horai Box" by: Kathleen Podolsky (p.26-34), but I'd like Shaka to serve me.

-+No Chicken For Me+-

In Cancer House, the Pisces Saint takes the book from his crabby friend. For a moment, Deathmask doesn't let go.

"Thank- I mean, you should take better care of your stuff! Look at it! Some of the corners are creased," complained Deathmask, not too convincingly. Aphrodite smirks.

"Well, for your information, I found this book remember? Now, if you don't mind, your new 'mask' is hanging by the entrance. Now keep your end of the bargain and scrub my ice sculpture!"

Deathmask growls but changes his mind not to send his friend off into the netherworld.

Aphrodite strides past the Nirvana Doors: the entrance to Shaka's garden ((where Saga, Camus, and Shura performed the forbidden technique)).

"Aphrodi-" began Shaka, but was immediately cut-off by a scream coming from the previous House.

"APHRODITEEEEEEEE!"

Turning around to face Shaka, he says, "I guess Deathmask found his mask that I cleaned. I even added a few touches here and there."

The Virgo Saint raises an eyebrow, but doesn't press him further. "Aphrodite, you know that you have to ask permission to enter here."

Catching the warning in his voice, Aphrodite makes a mental note to himself that he'd better greet Shaka properly next time. He smiles.

"Sorry Shaka, I was feeling too happy for Deathmask and Aiolia."

"Why? Those two have never spoken a decent word to each other… so what happened?" asked Shaka, a hint of curiosity seeping into his words. A light bulb flashes over Aphrodite's head ((or a torch I suppose)).

Choosing his words carefully, he says, "Funny that you should ask that, Shaka. You see, a miracle happened last night. You might not believe what the Cancer Saint has done for the Leo Saint."

"Try me."

Aphrodite sweatdrops at his terse reply.

"Well, Deathmask had an epiphany. This _book_ caused him to have a change of heart and invite Aiolia over for his own special recipe of chicken soup!"

::birds chirping and silence:: Shaka begins walking back to his seat cushion.

"NO WAIT! It's true! I saw it with my own eyes Shaka!" cried Aphrodite, grabbing onto Shaka's arm. Without opening his eyes, Shaka looks down at him.

"No book, unless a sacred one, can ever move Deathmask's heart enough to _serve_ and _eat_ chicken soup with Aiolia."

Aphrodite sighs. Changing his tactic, he replies, "Hmm… yes, what could be in this book that it can perform such a miracle I wonder…"

He glances hopefully at Shaka out of the corner of his eye.

_A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul_ read Shaka in his thoughts. Aphrodite hands him the book.

"You know, I'd like to finish that book myself but I'll let you borrow it I suppose. But of course, I expect _something_ in return…" said Aphrodite slyly. He knew that when something's too good to be true, add a catch to it.

"I would like to read this, but what would you like in collateral?" asked Shaka falling for it: hook, line, and sinker.

"I'll let you know when you return it. Just enjoy the book!"

And with that, Aphrodite heads back to his own House.

Shaka opens the book to the first page…

::The next day::

"Greetings Shaka-sama!" exclaimed Lithos nervously as she bows before the Virgo Saint. When Lithos looked up, Shaka was already inside.

_He certainly gets comfortable easily_, thought Lithos as she led him towards master Aiolia. She parts the curtains to his room and calls out, "Aiolia-sama? Shaka-sama has come to visit you."

A low muffled voice came from within the room, "Not now! Just tell him I died or something."

"Then if you died, who is it that's speaking?"

"WHAT THE-? AHHHHHH!" screamed Aiolia as he fell off his bed. He scrambled up and threw aside the curtains. "SHAKA?"

The young Shaka calmly walks into Aiolia's room for the first time since Aioros' betrayal. The Lion's den looked the same: a clutter of scrolls on the little wooden table, tunics hanging off of a chair, and… the same box of trinkets from their childhood days, peeking out from underneath the bed.

"HEY! I didn't exactly give you permission to come in here Shaka!" growled the 15 year old Aiolia, his hair dyed red in an effort to show he doesn't look anything like Aioros the traitor.

But Shaka's mind was elsewhere, wandering back to their childhood, to the first time he met Aiolia and Aiolos…

* * *

_The branches are swaying peacefully today_ thought the 5 year old Shaka. His short blond hair moving gently with the breeze. His eyes remained closed as did his heart. He patted the grass and sat cross-legged in front of the tree to meditate.

For a few moments, Shaka enjoyed the tranquility of the forest.

"LOOK OUT AIOLIA!"

Little Aiolia didn't hear his big brother's warning. "WHAT DID YOU SA-?"

But too late, Aiolos rushed over to help not his brother, but Shaka. He got down on his knees and helped get Aiolia off of him.

"OW! Hey, I'm hurt too! Argh, my head hurts," whined Aiolia as he moved off of Shaka. After rubbing his head for a few seconds he takes notice of the boy he crushed.

"Man, I'm sorry! I didn't see you there! This tree is usually our finish line," apologized Aiolia. Shaka just kept his eyes closed and nodded. Aiolos held Shaka up and carried him in his arms.

"Wha-what are you doing?" asked Shaka, surprised. Aiolos smiled widely at him.

"Well, we're going to treat you of course! It's my fault. My brother should really be kept on a leash, but I let him loose today."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY BIG BROTHER?" yelled Aiolia, blushing hard. But upon seeing Shaka's surprised face, he exclaimed, "Wow! You're Shaka right? I didn't notice with your eyes closed, but you have eyes the color of the ocean."

"Is the ocean the _only_ thing you think about Aiolia?" chuckled Aioros, pretending to be exasperated.

Everyday they ran their laps from the beach. As Aiolia's older brother and trainer, he knew Aiolia's favorite things and one of which was the ocean.

The two brothers continued to fill the silence of the forest by teasing each other all the way to Aiolos' old sea cottage. The brothers threw bandages at each other and forced Shaka to stay for dinner.

"You're really REALLY skinny, Shaka! You looked like a matching twig on that tree" was just one of the many jokes they made about his thinness.

Shaka was swept away by their energetic attitudes.

He also witnessed the most ridiculous cooking techniques. Aiolos and Aiolia performed what they called, "The Erratic Barf attack" in which they each put stuffing into a fish and then squeeze its' stomach to shoot the stuffing out. After that, Aiolia pulled Shaka with him into the ocean.

"C'mon Shaka! Let's take down my brother and claim his gold cloth. We'll be famous!"

Shaka blinked. Back in India, he always brooded and passed people by. He never once knew what it felt like to be with children his own age or to have fun.

Deep in the ocean, the setting sun flashed orange in the water and for the first time, Shaka looked at his reflection. Eyes blue, just like the ocean. He reached out his hand and summoning some of his cosmo, caused a small wave of water to wash over Aiolos.

"I think I will."

* * *

"Oi! You've been staring at my floor for the past 15 minutes! I'm not going to be responsible for your brain damage you know," growled Aiolia.

He looked up, startled for the first time in years. He closed his eyes again. "Not the floor, your collection of toys. You're too old to be playing with toys."

"WELL _EXCUSE_ ME! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BARGED IN HERE YOU Mmf-!"

Aiolia's mouth was being covered by Lithos, who was worried that Shaka will get offended and destroy Leo House.

A small smirk formed on the Virgo's face. With his index finger, he gestured for Aiolia to follow. His curiosity won over his anger. Shaka walked towards Virgo House with Aiolia following at a distance.

"Sit," commanded Shaka. Aiolia raised a brow, but obediently sat in one of his many cushions. The young Virgo came out of his room and placed a wooden box on the table.

Now both of Aiolia's eyebrows went up.

"Er, that looks a little ancient. There's dust everywhere," commented Aiolia.

_Must he always complain about everything?_ thought Shaka irritatedly. "The dust is on the outside, but it's the inside that I want you to see."

Hesitatingly, Aiolia lifts up the little cover. Nestled in the box was a bead bracelet, a shortened version of the 108 bead necklace that Buddhists use. "Cool, but wait a second…there's some Greek letters on this... aren't you Indian?"

Shaka smiled. "Yes, it's not Indian made. So who do you think must've given me this Greek bead bracelet?"

The young Leo Saint scratched his head. He revolved the bracelet in his hands, connecting each letter to form the words…

"συγγένεια μεταξύ αδελφών! Ties of brotherhood?"

Shaka laughed. He took the bracelet from Aiolia and smiled sadly.

"I was reading a story earlier, about 'The Horai Box'. A woman had closed off her emotions unwillingly, while I closed mine willingly. You and your brother gave me something. I realized that Aiolos took me along to show me what I closed my eyes to. It wasn't just to the despair and anger, but to love as well. This bracelet was one he gave me. In Japanese, Horai is also called, shinkoro or vision of the intangible. He sensed what the gift would do and that was to show me that hope and love is there-that it exists even with my eyes closed."

Upon hearing some loud sniffles, Shaka chuckles.

"Are you crying?"

"I'm n-not c-crying!" sniffled Aiolia, trying to wipe his tears and snot away. "There's too much dust flying around here is all."

Shaka smiled gently at his friend. Aiolia's hair had a halo of light from the setting sunlight poring from the window. _Both of you being friends as well as brothers even though we live to fight…truly amazing. Thank you for being my 'brothers'._

"It's getting late, would you like to stay for dinner?" But while he asked that, he was already leading the way to the kitchen.

Aiolia blew his nose on the end of his shirt. "Mhmm… yeah. What're we having?"

"Chicken soup."

* * *

Shaka set down two bowls on the table. He watched in amusement as Aiolia took a big whiff of the soup.

"Alright. Thanks for the soup Shaka! Hey wait, what's in your bowl?"

"Vegetable soup."

"You made two soups?"

"I don't eat chicken, or any other meat for that matter."

"Oooh," said Aiolia, "No wonder you're so skinny."

"Thank you."

"THAT WASN'T A COMPLIMENT!"

**Owari**

_EXTRA_: Hehe, this was hard to write. Almost makes me hate Shaka. Next chapter will be about Saga! PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Saga's Heart

**Chicken Soup for Gold Saints** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

_Mav's comments: _Keep in mind this takes place before the SS storyline. 'Nice Saga' is _only_ used in conversational thoughts with his evil side—henceforth referred to as 'Naughty Saga' that Aphrodite likes to use**;)**

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own **Saint Seiya** though a sojourn to Greece for Christmas vacation would be splendidXD I also make references to A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul's "The True Story of Arbutus and Sea Gull" by: Louise Dickinson Rich (p.201-204) .

-+The True Story of Nice & Naughty Saga+-

Aphrodite fluffed his hair for the thousandth or so time. He was leaning against the entrance pillars of Virgo House. A few birds flew past him, their twittering joining the thumps of Aphrodite's foot against the pavement.

Then he charged his cosmos to its' peak. He was ready to tear out a certain blond man's hair.

Finally Shaka emerged. He strode purposely toward him.

"Aphrodite, you are not required to raise your cosmos to the 7th sense. I can sense even the smallest of cosmos," greeted Shaka. Despite the admonishment, he was smiling.

"I waited a _whole hour_ for you to bring my book back," said Aphrodite through gritted teeth. It took every ounce of his willpower not to strangle the blond.

"Do you know what I could've been doing during that whole blasted hour?"

The Virgo Saint pretended to contemplate the question and then answered, "Chanting sutras perhaps?"

"_**BLOODY ROSE MY ASS I WOULD**_!" shrieked Aphrodite at the top of his lungs.

He cocked his head to the right to avoid Aphrodite's attack. The rose stem sent streams of cracks into the pillar behind Shaka. "Come now Aphrodite, patience is a virtue. Besides, I wanted to take my time copying the text."

The Pisces Saint frowned and then crossed his arms. "Don't be stupid. You could just buy another copy of it. Athens has a reliable bookstore… something or other Noble*."

"I see. Then I shall look into this Something or Other Noble* bookstore tomorrow."

Not bothering to correct him, Aphrodite wrenched it out of Shaka's hands and huffed and puffed out the exit of Virgo House, mouthing obscenities.

The afternoon sunlight reflected off the creased cover of the Chicken Soup book.

_Feh! Even Deathmask at the very _least,_ returned the book in the same sorry condition I found it in, _thought Aphrodite to himself. He ran his slender fingers over the newly peeled white corners and the gigantic crease on the spine.

"I am so going to raid your Twin Sala's Garden blondie. We'll see how holy it'll be after I…" muttered Aphrodite. He rubbed his hands together very dastardly-like, chuckling quietly with horns growing out of his dainty head (bad man!).

Shaking his locks of curly hair out of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of all-too-familiar long blue hair.

_Has the Master changed back? _Aphrodite sprinted into the House of the Scales. He quickly scanned the length of the hallway; his own lighter blue hair trailed after him as he dashed towards the figure and grabbed the edges of his cape.

Young Saga was bathed in the afternoon light streaming from between Libra House's pillars. His sea green eyes were fixed upon a tapestry that hung on the wall.

"Ack!" choked Saga as he instinctively pulled on the ties of his cape in front of his neck forward, sending the unknown cape-grabber flying.

"AHHH!" screamed Aphrodite, taken by surprise at the strength of a light tug from Saga. He made himself land on the palm of his right hand. He glowered at Saga upside-down with his even lighter blue hair tumbling upside-down around him.

"Now THAT was evil… not to mention ungentleman-like."

Saga blinked with surprise and concern. He hastily rushed forward to help Aphrodite who just pushed his hand against the ground and launched himself into the air then righted himself.

"Which Saga am I yelling at?" asked Aphrodite in a mock tone of anger. At the moment, he was more curious.

He sauntered up to the older Saint and thrust his face up to Saga's to look into his eyes.

Aphrodite was good at reading a person's thoughts by their eyes. "Yes, you really are Nice Saga."

Saga coughed and stepped backwards. He was always surprised by his junior Saint's boldness. Or perhaps his lack of shame.

"I-I apologize Aphrodite. You caught me off guard…"

"Which is an excuse for my nearly grazing my beautiful _visage_?"

Saga sighed. "Must you always talk about beauty? As a Saint-"

"'-we've no room for such sentiments. That goes _double_ for your rose wreaths' I know!" quoted Aphrodite as he began slowly circling around Saga, "I haven't seen you since last year… you can barely stay as 'yourself' for more than ten minutes since you ordered the execution of the Sagittarius Gold Saint. A cloth no one has seen since its' disappearance by the way."

The shadow of the pillar glided over Saga as he stepped out of the light. His disguise as one of Sanctuary's foot soldiers was nothing more than a white tunic with brown shoulder guards. His dark blue hair danced in the winds held in a single ponytail.

Aphrodite also took note of it. "Seems like you've also _lessened_ our foot soldier quota. Not that it should matter."

The Gemini Saint cringed. He closed his eyes as he remembered the embarrassing thing he did. In a low voice he responded, "I, uh, I didn't kill him. I found them by a lake."

It took only a nanosecond for him to put two and two together (I wish I was that fast at mathXP).

"EWW! You mean there's a guy _skinny dipping_? In the Lake of Athena?" His beautiful face twisted in disgust at the idea. _I hope I remember not to drink from _that_ lake again._

"Keep quiet!" urged Saga anxiously. He nervously sensed out any cosmos that might be within the vicinity of their hollering.

Sighing in relief, he continued their conversation. He fixed a steady gaze on Aphrodite. "It was hard for me to bear – his death practically by my hand! I felt too weakened by it all. My other self just took over."

"So you ran away into yourself? How convenient," commented Aphrodite in a measured tone of voice.

Saga's expression instantly turned angry. "I don't understand you! Are you for me or against me?"

"Neither. Power is a beautiful thing to uphold… and the most dangerous. I'm merely answering to it," he replied nonchalantly. His cerulean eyes unveiled no emotion. Not anger. Not sadness either.

He sighed again. He was hoping for more. His frustration was building in his heart again. Saga looked all around the room for something else to change the subject.

The light reflecting off the Chicken Soup book drew his curiosity.

"What's that?"

For a moment, Aphrodite had forgotten all about the book. He lifted the book and shook it in Saga's direction. Saga nodded to indicate that is what he was referring to.

The devious beauty smiled for the first time at Saga. The other Saint merely widened his eyes in surprise. The Twin Fish Saint held the book in the palm of his hand as if he were a waiter serving dishes.

Saga took the book slowly and read the title and the myriad of words around it. "_To rekindle the spirit_. You didn't steal this from Shaka did you?"

"I certainly did not! Look at this beautiful face. Does it look like the face of someone who'd steal?" asked Aphrodite indignantly. But he was pleased to see a little of the old Saga.

At least the old Saga back before he started having "mood swings."

"I'd have to say 'yes,' it looks like the face of a fox, only with a beauty mark," answered Saga, a weak attempt at joking around.

"That's something I haven't heard in a long time too," said Aphrodite quietly. Slowly he turned around and requested, "While you're still Nice Saga, have a look at that book. You did used to like reading a thousand books a night."

He winked and walked gracefully out of the room.

Saga wore a sheepish smile and was blushing slightly too. "He really needs to stop winking like that."

He left Libra House.

The late afternoon sky held hues of pale orange and tinges of pink and purple. His gold Saint hearing allowed him to hear every single strand of his hair flailing in the wind.

_I missed all these sounds of life_, thought Saga. _It was so quiet while I stayed in the background of my own body. Of my own mind. Even the serving girls' laughter seemed so far away,_ he recalled as he frowned about all those times his Naughty side ate lunch with the Greek girls instead of checking on the trainees.

It was a miracle his muscles didn't sag.

_Don't be a fool! Do you think climbing these crippling stairs was easy?_ retorted his other self. It still sounded barely above a whisper.

A good sign for Nice Saga.

_Stop talking to me! You are the worst! Why did you refuse to greet the Japanese trainees last week? They came a long way to receive training_, growled Nice Saga inwardly.

New trainees had to meet the Master before they're sent to their teachers. A few boys from Japan crowded together in front of the Master's chamber. They would become the future Bronze Saints: Jabu of Unicorn, Seiya of Pegasus, Shun of Andromeda, etc. (sorries, I forgot the restXD)

_What's your point? _

_They walked up here for hours! Then you just sent the guard out to tell them to turn back, _thought Nice Saga fiercely. How he wish he could punch him!

Naughty Saga laughed with glee. _Don't punch me, you'll only serve to hurt yourself. Now how about we give our beautiful body a nice hot bath?_

_You're sick you know that! SICK!_

_Heads up!_

Saga, stood halfway up the stairs. He realized that during his internal squabble he had passed the Master's chamber. He beheld the statue of Athena.

To him it seemed she regarded him with an austere expression.

_I wonder if her statue would look at us like that if she were in our bathing room eh_? Naughty Saga roared with laughter.

Ignoring him, Saga walked back down the stairs and after checking to make sure no one saw him enter the chamber as a guard, began stripping the stolen guard's outfit off him with one hand. Naughty Saga cracked more dirty jokes about it too.

Like always, his hot bath was prepared for him by sun down. He stepped into the warm water and eased himself into a sitting position. Saga was careful not to splash too much water onto the book.

_This is the first time you've ever given in to my suggestion of bathing._

"Would you shut up for a moment? I thought you'd stop complaining if I came here. Or perhaps I'll go ask Shaka for another sermon…"

_ABSOLUTELY NOT! Alright, fine. Go ahead and read but I'm taking over by morning!_

Saga rolled his eyes. For some reason, he felt more exasperated than he did angry with Naughty Saga. As if Naughty Saga's behavior was childish and nothing more.

With the single candle's light steadily pouring over the pages, Saga began reading. A few pages into the book, Naughty Saga joined him. He criticized and made other commentaries while they read on.

_Ha! That old priest shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. In your face old man!_ jeered Naughty Saga as they both finished a Christmas story titled, "Christmas."

"Don't make fun of him! You'd have thought the same if one of the trainees stole the Master's helmet. And anyway, stop reading with me."

_What? This book has some amusing stories. Humans are truly to be pitied._

Saga shook his head and continued. As he read, "The True Story of Arbutus and Sea Gull" tears poured down his face. The candle light's reflection on his tears seemed like golden orbs falling.

The story reminded him so powerfully of his twin brother, Kanon. But it was all the painful memories that came to him. He remembered all the times his younger brother would yell at him and ask for things that Saga could not give him.

"Kanon," whispered Saga, he gave an involuntary sob. He was standing now and felt that the water had turned cold a long time ago. The Gemini Saint picked up the candle and walked back into the Master's private room.

He slid on just the tunic and pants of the guard's outfit. With great resolve in his heart, he walked quickly down the secret pathway behind the statue of Athena. Sort of like the backdoor of a house.

He ran off and was careful to avoid any passing Saints or guards walking around at night. There was enough moonlight to look for Cape Sounion.

The ocean waves lapped softly, almost lazily against the jagged rocks in front of the prison. Saga leaped onto the tallest rock there and tried to look into the barred cave.

"Kanon! Kanon, it's me, Saga! Look I'm sorry for-" Saga stopped in the middle of his apology. His heart beating so quickly as his fear and apprehension increased.

He placed his face between the bars the same way Kanon did the last time he saw him. Only this time, there was no Kanon begging to be released.

For the first time in years, Saga's heart finally gave him the resolve to free Kanon that his sense of justice wouldn't allow.

Now Saga cried, for all the wasted years that could never be salvaged. Just like Arbutus did.

*Noble: I'm referring to Barnes and Noble, a bookstore. Aphrodite didn't remember what the bookstore was called is allXD

**EXTRA:** The story was one that really taught me a lesson of all the stories in _A Matter of Perspective _section. It was difficult at first to find one that suited Saga when I flipped through it but then one day I just laid the book open and _voila_! Please review and Merry Christmas!


	6. Milo's Wish

**Chicken Soup for Gold Saints** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

_Kou's comments_: In fanfiction, of all the gold saints, Milo is the most different from the original. Most writers depict him as a very charismatic and sensual man. Some even silly or sensitive (myself included). But looking over the few SS manga volumes I own and recalling the anime!Milo, he's very serious and nonchalant (compared to Mu). Maybe even overzealous in his duty to Athena.

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Saint Seiya which still belongs to Masami Kurumada. I do not own the story, "An Act of Kindness" by: The Best of Bits & Pieces from A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul (p. 49-50).

-+Milo's Wish+-

Rows and rows of saints, including guards who were not on patrol, were kneeling before the Master of Sanctuary. Trainees were never invited to these meetings. They were still viewed as "outsiders" and cannot be trusted with Sanctuary secrets or allowed near Athena's chambers yet.

It was the usual monthly meetings: Saga carrying on in deceiving everyone into believing he's passing on the words of Athena to prevent anyone from searching for her. He knew she was still alive somewhere since Aiolos was found dead without her... and to Naughty Saga, that was cause for concern.

_No matter, as long as no one from Sanctuary contacts the brat, she will have no means of support. Besides, she'll never figure out who she really is..._

"That would be all," dismissed Saga with a curt raise of his hand.

Clamors of steel and Cloths erupted at once inside the great hall. It was a long lecture after all.

From his throne, he watched them all turn their backs to him and make their way out. First the guards who always stood in the back, second were the nearly twenty Silver Saints* (some were still on missions), and lastly were the handful of Gold Saints excluding Mu, Aiolia, and Dohko. The Gemini Saint was of course still MIA, which many attributed to the loss of the Sagittarius Saint; his best friend.

While the Silver Saints slowly emptied out of the hallway, Saga couldn't help but overhear the conversation among the Gold Saints.

"He still visits his mother? But you just said she died years ago-frozen somewhere," replied Aldebaran.

The French Saint nodded. "Yes, I've seen him sneak off to do so."

"That's irresponsible of him. You should discipline him," suggested Shura, who was standing beside the Aquarius and Taurus Saints. Shaka offered his agreement.

But Aldebaran was quick to interject. "Hold on a minute, Shura. I just meant that if she's frozen deep in the Siberian sea and he's able to get there in one night's time then he must be reaching mach speed. Which is a _good_ thing as a saint."

_He really is soft-hearted_, thought Nice Saga faintly from within the confines of Naughty Saga's dominion over his mind and body.

Shura faced Aldebaran with a stern expression.

"Don't you think that allowing him to continue to hold such sentiments, let alone sneaking out at night, would get in his way of becoming a warrior of Athena? Or that he'll take a dismissive attitude toward his training because he's able to do whatever he wants under the nose of a Gold Saint?"

Aldebaran stood up to his full height. He did not appreciate the Capricorn Saint's tone of voice; as if scolding a child.

"Well, he isn't going to turn out like Deathmask just because he decided to honor his mother's memory once in awhile!"

"HEY! I heard that," growled the Cancer Saint, who was one shiny gold foot out the door. Upon hearing the last few developments of the conversation, the guards who were stationed outside the Master's chamber knew it was a turn for the worst.

They high-tailed it out of there.

"Ahem, let's not start a 1,000 day showdown over rearing a child," cut-in Aphrodite coolly, a frown gracing his face. He was flipping his rose across his fingers, much like the modern man does with a pen when he's bored. Or agitated.

"Heh, if Hyoga were my trainee, I would've made him do a thousand push-ups the second I caught him," said Milo as he walked passed them toward the exit, his billowing cape somehow adding to his sudden haughtiness.

Now it was Camus' turn to be offended.

"What do you mean by that? Are you suggesting I'm letting him off the hook?"

Milo stopped in his tracks and steadily returned Camus' angry gaze. "I'm saying that you shouldn't even have to consider it. What he did was wrong and that's that."

THWACK!

"WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR?" bellowed Milo at once, immediately spotting the cause of the new lumps popping up through his wavy and unruly blue hair.

Everyone's eyes, including Saga's, were affixed on the Pisces Saint. He still held the offending book in the same position beside Milo's head, apparently ready to strike him again.

Aphrodite was still frowning. "I told you all to stop not more than ten seconds ago. Need I also remind you we're in the presence of Athena?" he replied.

The Scorpio Saint bared his teeth at him, massaging the lumps. "Of course we know that! We were just discussing Camus' problem."

THWACK! went the already-battered book before Camus could respond.

Aldebaran tried to stifle his laughter. Deathmask wasn't even trying to hold it in. Shaka and Shura merely stood there smirking. They both also agreed that sometimes Milo needed some good corporal punishment for his blunt opinions. At least the others tried to suggest things rather than tell others what to do.

Not that Deathmask bothered to pass anything off as anything less than telling people what to do.

Saga finally decided to step in before a three way battle ensued. He brought everything to order by giving the Gold Saints (much to their dismay) another lecture. The group of Gold Saints departed without argument; the lecture tired the fight out of them.

The still slightly disgruntled Scorpio Saint removed his headpiece, followed by the rest of the Gold Saints. It was customary to come to the meetings fully dressed since they all thought they should set an example. But as soon as they left the Master's chambers, that self-imposed rule no longer applied.

Milo wiped the sweat from his forehead, the droplets catching sight of the bright white sunlight. He flung the sweat drops away from his hand, sending them flying like glistening shooting stars. As they reached the exit of Pisces House, he fell behind a little.

Making sure he was last, he quietly pulled up the edge of his cape and dabbed beneath his bangs. His ear began to quiver. He blinked a few times through the haze of the sun. His fine-tuned hearing catching what sounded like something fluttering.

Aphrodite standing in the slim shade at the rear of his House. Milo squinted a little harder. He was waving a small white cloth.

_He's so annoying_, thought Milo exasperatedly. His face burned red in embarrassment over getting caught using his cape to soak up his sweat. He walked over to his fellow Saint and took hold of the offered cloth.

"You're welcome," said Aphrodite, barely moving his lips. His crisp cerulean blue eyes never moving away from Milo's face.

The Scorpio Saint also seemed to take his measure with topaz blue eyes. With a deft swipe at the last droplets on his forehead, he handed it back to its owner.

Aphrodite closed his eyes and cocked his head so that his chin was jutting out in a superior kind of way.

Milo sighed. "You're not going to let me pass, are you?"

This whole time they were having an ego contest between men. Each man waiting for the other to react and give in to the discomfort and awareness of being scrutinized by another.

Those who kept the cooler head would be the winner of such mind games.

But this was a draw. Not that Milo was really into it. In the first place, he never regarded Aphrodite, the most vain Saint he's ever met, to be any threat. Not even to his manliness.

The tension evaporated, the silence remained. Milo's impatience was getting the best of him. Not to mention the heat. He cast his eyes around the exit for anything to fan him. Then his earlier question came back to him, which he couldn't ask before since the Master began lecturing. His curiosity winning over his anger.

"Aphrodite, why did you bring a book with you to the meeting? I don't remember you ever carrying one around before."

"I didn't. The Master returned it to me before the meeting started," replied Aphrodite curtly. He obviously still thought Milo could be politer.

Milo sensed that the Pisces keeper was still not ready to welcome him in. He continued to stand in the sweltering afternoon sun, not daring to move an inch closer.

Aphrodite's perfume has a range of three feet after all. And this seemed like one of those occasions where he would spray the crap out of people. He recalled the scene of Camus, his stoic expression breaking into a rather hilarious painful face, squinting and crying while wagging his tongue out after getting a face full of it.

When confronted, Aphrodite claimed he meant to spray it on his back but that Camus just turned around. Everyone shouted that it's a natural instinct to turn around if someone sneaks up behind them.

_What kind of hold does he have on the Master anyway? Master should've hurled his perfume collection to the moon by now._

"Milo!"

"What!" yelled Milo, startled.

"Ugh, you were daydreaming or something. You had a big goofy grin on your face. Anyway, since you tuned me out I'll just let you borrow the book," said Aphrodite casually. He quickly stepped in front of Milo and placed the book in his hand.

Milo staggered backwards. "H-hey! Don't come close to me like that! And since when did I ask to borrow your book?"

"Why, just now of course. I was explaining about which Gold Saints borrowed my little book and then you asked if you could take a look at it," replied Aphrodite all in one breath. He smiled at him.

"Riiiiight," said Milo distractedly. He couldn't remember if he said anything like that. It was just too hot to think!

He peered over the book. The edges were peeled and there were a myriad of cracks and folds along the cover and spine. It still looked like it was holding it together; none of the pages appeared to even be close to falling out.

He looked up at Aphrodite.

"You won't regret it."

* * *

It took him nearly four hours to get back to Scorpio House. The long return trip was the reason why the Gold Saints hardly ventured to visit each other or leave Sanctuary.

Milo dismissed his servants after they prepared an early dinner for him. In his House, the servants kindly cooked up a much bigger meal than on regular days. They knew that it was a long walk on crippling stairs for their master after kneeling for hours at the monthly meeting.

He was dressed down in a loose beige tunic and white pants. He left his tunic untied at the waist-he preferred it that way.

At once he stretched out in his simple wooden chair, his back straightening out against his seat so that from the side, there appeared a space of a triangle. His long hair was tied back at the nape of his neck with some strands draping in front of the backrest.

"It was a long day today," said Milo out loud in a tired voice.

The serving girls from afar giggled.

Milo grinned, looking out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled. Then he placed his hand upon the table, or he meant to, but it landed on the Chicken Soup book instead.

He opened it up with his left hand, while his right began shoveling food into his mouth. As he read on, he began to eat slower and slower. The steam no longer rose up from the grilled chicken and sauteed rabbit. Only half of the spanakópita mezés squares were eaten.

About a fifth into the book, he paused. Milo slowly lifted his head up as old thoughts and memories surfaced. The young Saint's eyes seemed to bore into the page as if it would yield answers to him.

He came across the story of a young soldier who fought in the American civil war. He was dying from severe wounds. Milo felt uncomfortable. The previous stories were about family problems, most even ended happily so far.

But suddenly he could relate to this story. To this young man who lived over a hundred years ago. Chills quaked down Milo's spine. But Milo forced himself to read what the boy soldier's fate was.

The dying soldier was pointed out to a man. The man went over to his bedside and asked what he might do for him. There was no need to tell the soldier it was going to be his last request.

The soldier whispered, "Would you please write a letter to my mother?"

He quickly penned his last words as the soldier dictated through his pain. After a short message, the boy felt too weak to continue so the man signed the letter for him: Written for your son by Abraham Lincoln.

The boy looked over the letter and was shocked that the President had taken his message. Lincoln then asked him if there was anything else he could do.

And the boy simply asked, "Would you please hold my hand? It will help see me through to the end."

A tear dropped onto the last word of the story. Followed by another and another. Milo covered his face with his hand as if to hold back the tears.

_I really should be more compassionate._

* * *

When I was younger, I always wished that someday I could be a hero.

I grew up on Milos Island, off the coast of the mainland of Greece. My family, as with many old Greek families, owned a small shop. My father and older brothers would go fishing off into the ocean. I ran the shop by myself. It wasn't hard at all even for a five-year-old. My mother long since passed away a year after she gave birth to me.

Yet somehow I knew this life wasn't for me. I dreamed about saving people from bad guys and wild monsters of myths. I kept my hair short so that I could look just like my father. I wanted to be brave and strong like he was! I wore shirts and shorts. On my feet were my favorite red flip-flops that were worn from standing on them all day long. Haha, I remember I always had to buy red ones.

I was almost six years old when the day came where my father's fishing boat never came back. They always left early in the morning in order to get a good haul. Also to avoid the hot sun.

I cried for hours. I remember all our neighbors and the other fishermen trying to calm me down as they searched for them. It was late at night. The wind was howling all day with the waves rolling roughly in the surf.

But that never stopped a man like my father. He always told me, "The sea is as much our friend as it is our enemy. We depend on it for a living. Some days she will be calm and welcome you. Other days she will try to crush you. Never turn your back on it, for the ocean can change in the blink of an eye."

Talk of other families taking me in came up eventually. I didn't want that. But it wasn't because I had anything against them, I just couldn't live in that village anymore where all my memories were.

So I packed a few things and tied them up in a big blanket and carried it. I sailed in a little dingy toward the mainland. I was afraid the adults there would look at me and realize I was an orphan. Which was silly of course, but when you're a kid you'll tend to think that adults were way perceptive than they really are.

I ran as fast as I could away from the city and towards a forest. It felt so freeing to just run that I kept going, not even stopping for lunch.

Which cost me dearly. I collapsed in the middle of some field.

It felt like I just closed my eyes for only a second before I felt someone prod me in the chest. I opened one eye, only making out a shadow in a halo of light from the sun above. His voice sounded so far away.

"What do you think Saga? Should we bring him back with us?" asked Aiolos. Back then he was only 12 years old.

Another voice answered and seemed to be farther away from me. "I don't think that's a good idea... he seems to be a runaway."

I heard my things being moved around.

A surge of panic rose in me. I tried to lift my head, but the sudden motion made me dizzy and I fell back down again.

Fortunately, Aiolos caught me and eased me onto his own lap. He seemed to understand my fear and adjusted me into a sitting position.

"It's alright. Don't worry, you're safe. We're just going to bring you to a place you can rest up a bit," he said in such a soothing tone, that he reminded me of my loving older brothers.

From that moment on began a new journey for me. At first, Saga was against it. He practically nagged Aiolos about the trouble they'll be in the whole way to Sanctuary.

It was kind of funny.

The Master of Sanctuary came down to see me. He was so scary at first. It was that weird black mask with blank eyes. But he was cool. As I learned about Sanctuary, I watched Aiolos and Saga.

I was a celebrity for awhile actually. Everyone wanted to know how I met the two Gold Saints. I always tried to talk to Aiolos whenever I could.

Hate to admit it, but I was jealous of Aiolia. He was Aiolos' younger brother and student. With training from a Gold Saint, I believed you were bound to become one too.

But little did I know back then that two years later I would get my own gold cloth despite being trained by a Silver Saint. And I trained damn hard for it too. I wanted Aiolos to acknowledge me and if we took up residence in the Zodiac Houses Road we would become friends...

* * *

"Do you have any respect for beauty sleep?" mumbled Aphrodite, still groggy from sleep. His eyes were half-closed and his tunic slipping off the side of his shoulder.

Milo was standing outside Aphrodite's bedroom, letting his cosmos die down after using it to summon him. You weren't allowed to enter any House without its keeper's permission, even to just shake him awake.

"Sorry Aphrodite, but you know it takes me four hours to get here. I thought I'd give this back to you," he said as he held out the Chicken Soup book.

"You could've returned it to me in the afternoon after I've had some breakfast."

"I know, but I also wanted to catch the Master before he starts his meditation. I need to request time to, uh, tell Camus something," finished Milo a bit sheepishly.

Aphrodite peered down at the book, taking in the new creases on the cover. He took the book and tucked it under an arm.

"Feh, well then. Not sure if you recall, but the other Saints owed me a favor for borrowing my book. When you get back from Siberia, I'll let you know what I want."

"Sounds fair," replied Milo, making a face at the fact he would ask for something just to loan a book.

"So what do you think? Did you enjoy it?"

A wistful smile formed on the Scorpio Saint's face. "Maybe. I felt more... melancholic. But I guess I still enjoyed. You mentioned that the others borrowed it... could you tell me again who they were?"

Aphrodite was smiling too. "So far-"

"So far? You mean you're going to pass it on to the rest? Who's next?"

To which Aphrodite decided to leave him hanging, smirking as he closed the door to go back to sleep.

*Fantasy-Magician informed me that there's 24 Silver Saints, thanks!

_EXTRA_: When I was younger my family would take fishing trips on my Uncle's boat every summer. But I loved riding in the dingy, which is a smaller motor boat. Next up is Capricorn Shura! The Sagittarius House is empty after all, but his story will connect with it. Please review!


	7. Shura's Dreams

**Chicken Soup for Gold Saints** by: Kounellii aka IrrelevantMaverick

_Kou's comments_: I'm using classic Saint Seiya manga's version of everyone's hair color. I love their original hair colors; all those blonds. Red looks better on Camus anyway, it doesn't go with the stereotypical "whoever has ice/water powers must have blue hair" thing. Shura's was a lot of fun to write surprisingly!

_Disclaimer_: Me doth protest to own "Saint Seiya" and Episode.G by Masami Kurumada and Megumu Okada as well as A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul's "From the Mouth of a Small Boy" by: Elaine McDonald (p223-224).

-+Shura's Dreams+-

The worn walls steadily lost its warmth as the sunlight faded. Night arrived early as usual when autumn approaches Greece. It was a much welcomed change in weather.

The cloth box of the great Goat smelled faintly of oils.

"Shura!"

The young Capricorn Saint quickly turned to face his visitor. His quiet and peaceful gaze moved upward to see a familiar face. His dark gray eyes looked up in surprise.

He bowed.

"Good afternoon, Aiolos."

The older boy grinned.

"There's no need to greet me like that, Shura. We're equals now!" said Aiolos rather cheerfully.

His goldenrod hair seemed to absorb the ebbing light of the day, creating a gentle halo. He was slender but with a well toned frame. He stood out within the dark gray of Capricorn House.

"I'm sorry. I won't bow next time," replied Shura.

"Haha, alright. And next time, keep your guard up. I was able to sneak in because you were preoccupied, but it's essential for you to always make sure everyone, including all Gold Saints, enter here with your express permission. It can slide today though, since I'm definitely not your enemy!"

Shura nodded. His body was still sore from his battle to earn the right to be called the Saint of Capricorn. His opponent was a fierce and cunning 10 year old girl. She was as shrewd as everyone warned him about. Their battle raged on for nearly an hour among cheers and jeers from the crowd of fellow Saints. In the end, his Excalibur saved him from what would have been a bitter loss.

But that was 3 days ago.

As Shura returned to polishing, Aiolos' own sky blue eyes glanced over the 7 year old kneeling down among the pots of cleaning oil. The dirty rag still clutched in his tiny fist. He bent down and picked up the oil pot, sniffing it as Shura moved aside and watched his senior curiously.

Aiolos offered it back.

"Hmm... this is a new mix of oil. It kind of smells like... let's see... olives and hyacinths."

Shura shrugged, blushing slightly. "That Aphrodite gave it to me. I'm not sure why. I was already given a huge pot of oil by the Master. I told him no, but he kept insisting. You can have it Aiolos. I don't think I'll be using it."

The older boy's eyebrows twitched in amusement as he made the connection.

"I see. I think I remember something about that... I was asked to check on our new Pisces Saint last week. Apparently the Master was worried since he was still recovering from his first mission. I found him in the ruins of the Olympic Stadium. He was so focused on mixing up some new concoction of fragrant cleaning oil. Aphro said that if he could create some oil that can retain the scent of flowers, he'd know his wish would come true."

His story produced the effect he wanted from the young solitary boy. Shura's eyelashes blinked rapidly. The greasy cloth slipped slowly from his open hand.

Aiolos placed a firm hand on Shura's thin shoulder.

"Don't ever forget that," he whispered.

"I won-" muttered Shura.

"He won? Che, this is getting interesting," said Deathmask, his arms crossed and one gray eyebrow raised. A gleam of curiosity flashing in his eyes.

"He couldn't have. He wouldn't hurt me," countered Aphrodite at once.

Both Saints have been watching Shura and his one-sided drama show in his sleep for days now. They noticed that their friend has been walking around with dark circles under his eyes. So they took it upon themselves to secretly keep vigil over his sleep.

Their casual worrying soon escalated into crazy ideas.

Deathmask claimed Hypnos was trying to kill Shura in his sleep in a rather excited tone than was appropriate. Aphrodite scoffed at the idea, believing he was staying up late to create his own Irish souffle recipe. He probably thought of it since Shura, although not one to boast, has been in the habit of suggesting easy-to-bake potato souffles whenever he overhears the others complaining about the lack of variety in their meals.

The Saints were always in need of a tasty meal that can be cooked in a stone oven. Shura discovered that souffles were the way to go in Sanctuary as he missed helping his parents cook meals in his family's restaurant he left behind in his youth. They passed away due to an epidemic in his hometown.

If he came up with a new recipe, he might finally top the Aquarius Saint of the 16th century who came up with the idea of using a low spinning air current using one's arm in a long vase or tall jar to grind up various fruits into a thick juice.

In modern times, this concept gave birth to the blender which makes smoothies.

"Mghhh... didn't wan... Aioria," he mumbled, as if in reply to someone in his dream.

The bed sheet would have been on the floor if Deathmask didn't keep tucking it back on. Although they both were being voyeurs into Shura's subconscious state, they were still his friends and had his best interests at heart. Even Aphrodite didn't fuss much about wiping the drool from his open mouth.

The latter might have been to make sure Shura pronounces everything clearly though.

"I'm pretty sure he meant Aiolia," whispered Aphrodite, leaning toward Deathmask so as not to wake him up.

They both continued to sit down on either side of the bed in Shura's wooden chairs, conversing in low voices.

"... be what cavemen did," said Deathmask.

"!"

"Oh crap!" cursed the both of them as their heads banged together right at the center of the bed. They both slumped forward until their faces slid down onto the sides of Shura.

The Goat Saint sat bolt upright immediately when Aphrodite's voice intruded through his nightmare. He knew there was something wrong when in the middle of his dream-memory of a younger Aiolia accusing him of killing his brother in error, suddenly talk about combing his hair in a pompous voice.

Although he was calling them all the bad names he could think of, he couldn't shake off his feeling of relief. One of these days, he'll have to thank them.

"And don't ever let me catch you spying on me again!" finished Shura. His eyes at once resembled hard black stones.

His two friends nodded vigorously. Shura escorted them both out: Deathmask at the entrance and Aphrodite out the back door. He gave them each another look to make sure they knew he was serious and then sighed.

Shura climbed back into bed and nestled down under the covers. He tried moving his arms and legs into various positions. But sleep just wouldn't come back for him.

"Damn those two fools," moaned Shura. His arm was crossed over his eyes.

He turned onto his side. The wind from the open window playfully turned the pages of a book Aphrodite lent him a few days ago. He put off reading it, finding other things he needed to do. Shura watched the wind play with it for a few minutes.

He eased up onto his elbow and with his free hand, took hold of the battered Chicken Soup book.

_Well, why not?_ thought a grumpy Shura, turning to the first page.

The candle he lit at midnight soon gave up as the waxed caught up to the flame. Fortunately, the rays of the morning sun were enough to keep reading.

He was now learning about an old man who was relating his own tale to a young couple. A frame story. During World War II, a couple of British soldiers made an emergency landing in enemy territory: a German town.

_A last resort _commented Shura. He recalled hearing about the war and its use of modern weapons that caused a scale of mass destruction. It was said that the Bronze and Silver Saints spread out across the world to protect as much of the people as they could.

Yet not much could be done. From the first World War til the second, not many children were brought to Sanctuary and trained. There simply wasn't enough children born who were healthy enough to even survive the training. No, the Master didn't want to take away from the civilian population until there was a surplus.

So the few Saints that were raised in Sanctuary back then were very old now, a brood from the 1920s.

When the locals of the town saw that the men were from the Allies, they took up arms against them. They wanted to kill them. The police tried to stop the crowd in order to arrest the invaders.

But the crowd stopped as a young boy stood up to shield them. He begged his countrymen to see that they're just young boys; that they were fighting for their country just as their own sons were doing. He asked them to spare those boys.

And they did.

* * *

The birds flew past the fully clothed Capricorn Saint headed in the same direction. His gold boots clinked brightly at each step. For the first time in weeks he felt as if he's finally had a breath of fresh air. He glanced up at the sky, it couldn't be more than 8 o' clock in the morning.

Shura passed through Camus' House, calmly sensing out any disturbances just to double check while its' keeper was away in Siberia. He ascended the now warmed up steps by the sun.

Taking care not to raise an alarm, he walked straight toward Aphrodite's bedroom. He quietly opened the door. A tender chuckle rose up in his throat at the sight of his friend. The beautiful boy (even Shura can't deny this) was lying deep within the extra stuffed bed. He was the only Saint with heavy velvet curtains around his bed. Aphrodite complained to the Master about the morning sun cutting into his beauty sleep.

His usually pristine face had drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. His curly bangs were standing upright.

_So that's what his natural lip color is_ remarked Shura. He inclined his head for a closer look. Aphrodite's lips were a pale tan color without his customary lip gloss. He actually looked manly asleep!

_I've got to hand it to him though, his breath still smells fresh_.

Shura gently lifted up Aphrodite's hand and held it for awhile. He bowed his head as if in silent prayer. Then turning to a small makeshift night stand, he left the book beside its owner.

The wind once again played with the pages.

_EXTRA_: I found out that my hits for Milo's story were from over 10 countries. That's amazing, I'm glad to see international readers checking this out. I just want to say thank you for reading! Camus' story might be the last chapter. Please review and if you feel better reviewing in another language other than English, I can always use an online translator tool for it=)


	8. Camus' Luck

**Chicken Soup for Gold Saints** by: Kounellii

_Kou's comments_: I was accepted into a study abroad program for France. But damnit the cost was double this year! France, when will I see you?*cries* On the bright side, my brother bought me a Sagittarius Aiolos (Medicos brand) figurine.

_Disclaimer_: I don't pretend to own Saint Seiya (Masami Kurumada does). "The Beauty Remains; the Pain Passes" by The Best of Bits & Pieces in A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul (p275). I own this fanfic at least!

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer."  
-Albert Camus

-+Camus' Luck+-

The path leading away from the forest toward Sanctuary was lined with flower petals. A rare breeze that passed was strong enough to carry some, although Greece was having a very humid and unwindy summer. The young man was slender, and some Saints who dared to, even compared him to a woman.

He looked off to his left, his eyes tracing the petals back to a small field off in the distance. Although he prided himself to be a man through and through, he did recognize a few of the flowers. White chamomiles and red crown anemones dotted the fields among the purple Goat's Beard flower that dominated. Even children knew about that flower, it was that weird. But it's vibrant and spiky petals helped it stand out. A few young trainees were lying down on soft patches of grass a few yards away.

Well, there was some time before his appointment with the Master of Sanctuary…

As usual, the Master issued a period of mental training whenever the summer's heat became too unbearable. The trainees who were in Greece were supposed to be taught astrology, how to read and write in both the ancient and Modern Greek alphabet.

After all, Athena represented wisdom in the myths. It would be absolutely embarrassing if a warrior of Athena didn't know how to write his own name!

The trainees, on the other hand, had other things they had in mind. During the day instead of writing, they would draw on the backs of yesterday's scroll or pass notes to each other. Of course, one really enjoyed mental training if they had a fellow student.

Most trainers were assigned groups of three to as much as fifteen students. A few trainers such as Marin the Aquila Silver Saint took on only one student. And the reason for such uneven groupings was simple.

The language barrier.

The older Saints who earned a cloth found themselves picking up new languages through their missions protecting Earth. Perhaps it was another ingenious idea of Athena, but no doubt the Saints in her service picked up new languages fast. Many knew at least three.

So for pure convenience, the recent brood of children from Japan already had a narrow range of teachers who were fluent in Japanese. Camus was one of them.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday.

* * *

The temple was dusty as spring arrived two years ago to the day, bringing with her great gusts of wind. He overheard the guards joking that Aeolus was hard at work that day. But why he would remember that baffled him for just a second.

A few children were left of the batch that arrived from Japan. They appeared so small and young when he entered the temple. Was he ever that small and frail? The vast space and high pillars seemed to eclipse them even as he came closer. However, an old man-no; the Libra Saint, Dohko, beckoned him into one of the many smaller chambers on the right. He changed direction.

A few other Saints were also present.

"Greetings, Aquarius Camus," murmured the other Saints. They each nodded toward him.

"Yes, thank you," he replied courteously.

He sensed some movement and turned to see Orphée. His white blond hair* was wispy and shoulder-length before he disappeared a month later. Although the Master requested the Silver Saint to end every "mandatory" meeting with a song, Camus found that he did enjoy the music. It soothed him.

In some ways, it made him think about older times. Like his soul's memory was stirring in remembrance of someplace far away…

"… Sir?"

Now Camus physically stirred, shaking off those strange, yet lonely thoughts. He fixed his gaze upon the younger Saint. Not unbeknownst to him, a few of the other Saints were grinning. Blushing harder didn't ease the moment at all either.

"Ahem, we were waiting for you. We thought that you should have the first pick of the remaining children," said Orphée, trying his best to carry on the conversation as if the Gold Saint had not, well, zoned out on them. He blinked, his gray, or was it blue? eyes.

He was never close enough to know. But maybe, he wasn't mindful enough. Camus didn't know which.

"I think that you should have started the selection process. You wasted your time."

There was some shuffling and a few sounds of disapproval at his words. Then the small ring of Saints stepped back as the oldest stepped forward.

Accompanied with nothing but his walking stick they all worriedly noticed.

This time, Camus bowed. He wasn't so embarrassed and upset that he forgot his manners.

"Camus. We waited for you because we knew you had a much longer journey to make than any of us. If you were allowed to pick first, you would be able to leave that much quicker. It's only the second time we've met, but I know you. You are known to be quiet and reserved. You see clearly and take in the whole situation before making your move," Dohko said, at once claiming the tension in the room. "I'm also told you don't smile."

Camus' face hardened. He stared at his fellow Gold Saint. But in the space of a moment, all he could see was a dry old man.

Yet a smile graced the old man's face. He laughed.

"Ohohoho! My, my, you really can't take a joke. Ohohoho," cried Dohko, perhaps a little too gleefully.

"Are you challenging me?" he asked forcefully.

They all watched the Libra Saint, whose laughter was slowly subsiding. The Silver Saints chuckled very nervously. They weren't trained to handle situations like this.

Dohko looked up from three feet below with a merry twinkle in his eye.

"I know why you're worried."

Camus frowned.

"And why would I be worried?"

Ages passed before the older Saint spoke. His wrinkly hand calmly stood his walking stick before him. And again, he rested his hands on top, deliberately pausing.

"Because you left Isaac behind to come here," he gently answered.

* * *

The wind had died down. And so, the young man's hair was sticking to the nape of his neck again. With both hands, he scooped up his hair and looped his hair into a ponytail.

"Looking good, Camus."

He continued to look off into the distance. Camus exhaled.

"Oh, c'mon! It was a compliment," whined Aphrodite. His eyes focused on his fellow Saint, slightly in awe at the way the early sun's light seared through Camus' hair, coupled with the glimmer of his Gold Cloth.

"Your hair, although not quite having the same elegant sheen as mine, looks pretty good. It's almost like… the color of rich blood."

"… That again? It's just hair," replied Camus.

The older man crossed his arms as if in offense.

"I know. But when I see your hair, I just have to say something about it. It's good that you came to visit the Garden of Narcissus because it'll make this go faster. It must be fate or something! Here."

The Aquarius Saint glanced down at a thick scroll Aphrodite held out. He took it. As he skimmed through his new mission's details, he asked, "Why did you read my mission? You know that only the assigned Saints are allowed to open the scroll."

He noticed that the scroll's strings were already untied. Aphrodite blinked.

"Well obviously, I was also assigned to the mission. So it's _our _mission."

A dull thud echoed across the fields.

::Later that afternoon::  
The wide street of a small country village in Sweden was filled with the bustle of shoppers, workers, and children. The little shops and buildings were made of stone. Some were green, others red or white.

A few girls giggled and pointed at a pair across the street from them.

Aphrodite had picked out a few modern clothes for them to wear to blend into the crowd. Camus was a little miffed at trying on some earlier outfits that were too bright ("I will not wear yellow.") or too gaudy ("Why are there stones on these pants?").

Finally, he walked out in a white pair of jeans short torn at the knees, a cotton beige boat-neck style shirt, blue shades, and the same worn out black, open-toed, sandals that he came in. Aphrodite also settled on a plain outfit much to a newfound resentment of his partner ("I won't be seen with you if you wear anything too short!": a navy blue short sleeve shirt that went up to his elbows, khaki shorts, and a new pair of dark green open-toed sandals.

Needless to say, they caught the eye of dozens of women even before leaving the clothing store.

"What do you need those for?" Camus asked vehemently, pointing at the silver brooch with an engraving of a rabbit in Aphrodite's hand.

"Well, what? This fine man just told me it's a good luck ch-"

"We don't need another good luck charm!"

The vendor scratched his head. _These two argue worse than my sisters._

Aphrodite felt his temper rising through his veins. He jammed his hand into his brown felt pouch and pulled out a couple of _kronas_.

He placed them into the vendor's hand.

"Jag tar det här. Tack," Aphrodite said and smiled at the patient vendor, whisked his head around, and stalked past a smoldering Camus.

He caught up to him, keeping pace with Aphrodite's brisk strides. Camus threw his shades into a trashcan as they passed it. It was something Aphrodite insisted he needed.

"I already let you buy two lucky charms," protested Camus, apparently continuing their argument.

"Let me? _Let me?_ Who do you think you are! I'm older than you, idiot!" snapped Aphrodite. He was past kidding around.

The Aquarius Saint tried to keep his own anger in check. "I don't have time for this. The Master gave you that money for the both of us. But you're wasting it!"

They continued to walk, with Aphrodite increasing his pace faster and faster. Camus followed suit. Now people stared at the two young men walking uphill at such an angry pace.

"Gosh, you're so stingy! It's a couple of cheap good luck charms. One of them's for you too," said Aphrodite, wisps of his swaying hair across his face.

"I don't want any good luck charms! I don't believe in them."

An audible and rude sigh issued from his partner at the ice saint's words. They stood standing at the top of a lonely hill, just outside of the village. Camus stared at the back of Aphrodite, who also continued facing away from him with his hands on his hips, just rolling a few pebbles around with his sandal.

Aphrodite turned around. Camus looked; there was no trace of anger or hurt in his partner's face. It was strange.

"Alright, let's just get this mission over with."

::Nightfall::  
It was darker than usual. A new moon. The better name was dark moon. Even the wind didn't stir. A few owls could be heard close by.

The two picked up their Gold Cloth boxes from their hiding places (in the middle of lake Roxen, Aphrodite's suggestion). With their Cloth slung over their shoulders, they silently headed for the nearby forest.

Other sounds were heard, but they deemed none suspicious. Their faces and whole bodies were alert. Resolute.

Aphrodite paused, not finishing his next stride. He peered between the trees. If it weren't for the stars they would be blind.

"I sensed it too," said Camus as if in reply to his partner.

The Pisces Saint shrugged and looked back at him.

"Did you notice that there aren't any sounds coming from beyond this point?" he asked. Even with a clearing overhead, he still couldn't make out Camus from the dark.

Camus' eyes widened. He listened, comparing the sounds coming from his left to the silence from the right. It was eerie.

"Be ready," warned Camus.

They continued their hike. The ground was starting to get rockier beneath their feet. They gradually found themselves climbing up a slight slope, patches of hard flat stones were dispersed everywhere. The terrain was nothing difficult for the Gold Saints.

Personally, Camus found it relieving that Aphrodite didn't complain. He was expecting it. Suddenly, Camus flung an arm out. A few moments passed. Nothing happened.

"Eh, that was unnecessary. I know the ground trembled same as you," Aphrodite said in a low voice. Personally, he didn't like what Camus' actions meant. He was a Gold Saint and was definitely competent enough to protect himself.

Even if he did wear lipstick.

"Alright. Just listen," he said tersely.

The other bit his lip and forced himself to fume inwardly. Really, Camus was acting like he was the leader. He let it slide and listened intently.

It was unmistakable.

"Something's breathing in there."

"A big thing at that," added the Aquarius Saint. "Although it sounds as if there is more than one."

There were different rhythms of breathing. A deep intake of breath was far too quickly followed by long exhales. Sometimes occurring at the same time.

They nodded at each other. They still couldn't see one another, but they could sense each other's movements. Both were steadfast. With a slight pout, Aphrodite grudgingly let Camus take the lead. Although in his defense, the ice saint didn't know he was doing it.

Camus raised his head cautiously above the five foot tall floor of a large cave. The floor was elevated above the ground of the hill to about his height. The moss draped above the opening swished back and forth along with the rhythm of the varied breathing within. He squinted but even with his perfect vision, no amount of training or cosmo could increase his night vision.

Eyesight just can't be trained.

But fighting blindly is possible. They could surely destroy the being. Camus felt a tug at his sleeve.

Not bothering to turn and deciding that the snores were enough cover, he whispered, "What is it?"

Catching the hint to speak only as the snores were raised, Aphrodite whispered his idea slowly.

"I don't think there's any point in troubling to see them. I _know_ that we're supposed to verify our enemies and make sure no innocents are mixed up in it blah, blah, blah," swiftly continued Aphrodite, understanding at once that Camus' next move would be to light up a torch to check, "but it's obvious that it's the target we're after. The letter said that many of the villagers who wandered here did not get back and that there have been detections of slight tremors in the ground. Well, here's the source! Waking it up won't be necessary because if it does, it'll start destroying the land again. We should protect my country so that its natural beauty won't be marred anymore by this beast's tramping. As Athena's Saints, we're in charge of protecting the earth and I'm sure that includes the land. We don't need to don our Cloths for this either. Let's just blast these giants or monsters and it'll be mission complete."

Camus looked back into the cave.

"I won't deny that it's a good idea-"

"But?" cut in Aphrodite impatiently.

He hesitated. "We may be Gold Saints, but there's a chance that there's a very weak survivor in there that we can't sense. We need to see what we're killing."

Aphrodite found himself pulling on his own hair.

"Why bother? Any survivor must be near death if their cosmo barely registers. Even if there is a survivor, you think they'll be strong enough to live? That they might have all their limbs still attached? Imagine a survivor lying there with dozens of dead bodies beside them. They'd be traumatized for life. They're better off dead," he spat.

A chill swept up, reaching even the roots of Camus' hair. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Such cold logic from the lips of the Gold Saint, Aphrodite.

The flesh of his fingertips pressed hard against the floor of the cave. He appeared to stare harder into the darkness, but it was only because he was thinking harder. He tried to imagine the situation as his fellow Saint described. Was it hopeless?

"Maybe… it's more merciful your way," he whispered. A stone seemed to have slid into his heart's skin, for it felt heavy to say.

He heard Aphrodite let out a tired sigh. Yet he sensed there was relief in there too. At another tug at his sleeve, Camus backed up from the mouth of the cave, matching Aphrodite's distance from him so that the two formed the bases of a triangle with the cave as the top point.

He faced the cave while straining to watch Aphrodite's movements. Aphrodite reached into his hair and pulled out a single rose. It was in full bloom and its' petals were pure white.

"For this occasion, I thought a white rose might still be able to catch what little light the stars can give us. You can see it," he said, knowing Camus was watching.

A grin formed on his companion's face. Camus recognized its simple, yet clever solution. The Pisces Saint arched his arm back and suddenly Camus felt some fragrant things materialize all around them.

His roses can cross dimensions! That's a high level ability to be able to use one's cosmo to manipulate objects or people from far away by cutting through space and time, one that the long gone Saga mastered. And even yet Aphrodite…

"What are you waiting for Camus? Get ready!"

He felt himself nod, even though Aphrodite couldn't possibly see it. Following the older Saint's lead, Camus spread his legs apart and locked his hands together. His clasped arms ascended high above his head. The wind finally appeared, brushing their hair out of the way.

"AURORA EXECUTION!" "PIRANHA ROSE!"

From a distance, it would appear as if the roses and lightning bolts were streamers around a blazing golden fire. For the first time, the Gold Saints could see what was breathing in the cave. The light emitted was brilliant like a shooting star and just as momentary.

Shrieks and howls filled their ears immediately. There was definitely more than one screaming. Now they knew why.

The beast clambered to its feet. Pale white light flickered over what were no doubt large scales. Against the starry night sky, the outline of great talons flexed in the air. As it stood, they could easily see it was beyond the height of the cave. At least a hundred feet tall and forty feet wide. It must have been a tight fit for the monster.

Then it raised its heads.

"It's a Hydra!" yelled Aphrodite, not out of fear, but to alert his comrade. Although he should have known all Saints would be familiar with the legend of the serpent.

Camus was at a loss for words. He had never seen nor heard of such a monster in his whole entire life, living in these times. The mythological monsters did exist in the ancient days as it was recorded in Athena's library, but to live to see one!

Of course, he was only 14 years old.

They both jumped backwards away from each other as one of the serpent heads lunged at them. Before they landed their Cloths simultaneously enveloped their bodies. Camus' right hand began to glow again this time in a pale hue, icy shards crystallizing in the air around it.

"DIAMOND DUST!" he shouted as he jumped up to the base of the neck.

The rest of the head fell as the neck crumbled to ice dust. He was about to repeat the process but another head shot out of it. Cursing, Camus dodged another swipe.

"I thought that if I froze the base of its neck, it wouldn't grow back due to the subzero temperature. It's supposed to seal it like fire did for Heracles," explained Camus for Aphrodite's sake.

"I know! It would also definitely be a waste of our cosmo if we keep aiming for the heads…" replied Aphrodite, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.

Inspiration struck. The Twin Fish Saint maneuvered between the now grown eleven heads.

"Camus, keep this monster's heads busy!"

"What are you trying to do?" he called, his eyes flicking from the many open mouths ("And sharp teeth," Camus noted) to the back of Aphrodite who was apparently right underneath the body of the Hydra. His eyes watered from the vile stench coming from its mouth.

"Just watch," said Aphrodite.

A dozens white roses appeared in both his outstretched palms. He bunched the roses together so that the stems appeared to be one long stem. A beautiful, yet deadly bouquet. Looking upward, he searched for any soft spots. There just had to be one!

Then he saw the ridges of the scales were not completely flat like how a true snake's are but were ironically like a fish's scales. Whenever it moved or breathed, the end of the scale that wasn't attached to the skin shifted outward.

A perfect weak spot!

"BLOODY ROSE YOU DAMNED MONSTER!" he shouted as the stems lodged itself between the scales and skin. He threw bouquet after bouquet into every scale that moved, not bothering to figure out where a monster keeps its heart.

Right before their eyes, the monster dwindled in size. The eyes of each head rolled up into its sockets. One by one they each fainted upon another. The body collapsed onto the rocky ground.

The blossom of each rose shimmered to the ground. They were heavy with blood.

::Hours Later::  
The two boys had their hands full cleaning up. As per the Master's orders, they had to get rid of the evidence of the beast to ensure that it will remain nothing more than a myth to the world. Camus enclosed his own arm in ice to cut the body into pieces so that they could throw it into the small bonfire they created. They were mindful of the greenhouse effect.

Well, the bonfire was actually quite large by human standards.

After burning up the Hydra, they solemnly proceeded to cremate the scattered human bones in the cave. Many were cracked as if they were bitten and spat out on the floor.

They recited a brief prayer for the people they couldn't save. The combined heat of fire and labor eventually tired them out. But it was the loss of human lives that weighed down their spirits. They were both sitting against a pair of aged trees, overlooking the cave.

"These people… they died so tragically. They're gone without anything to mark the end of their lives. They might as well have not been born for the agony that monster put them through," Camus remarked, in a quieter tone than he intended. After he made sure Isaac and Hyoga were safe, he left for Sanctuary to answer the Master's call. Perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind, his concern for his students made him irritable earlier to Aphrodite who was taking up so much time on trinkets. But Camus knew why now.

"Camus, would you like to hear a story? You could even say it's a French story."

At first Aphrodite thought that Camus might refuse. But at the sign of Camus folding his arms and leaning back into the tree as if to get comfortable for a long story; he began to speak out into the lonesome stillness.

"There were two artists who lived during the 20th century. Henri Matisse, who was younger than his friend, Auguste Renoir. But Renoir was crippled by arthritis.

"Matisse watched his friend paint. He finally asked, 'Auguste, why do you continue to paint when you are in such agony?'"

"To which his dear friend answered, 'The beauty remains; the pain passes.' Now one of his most famous paintings, _The Bathers_, was completed two years before he died and fourteen years after he was struck by arthritis."

Young Aphrodite paused, reflecting on the story. He turned to his comrade at arms beside him.

"CAMUS!"

The Aquarius Saint immediately roused himself. And he was having such a good nap too.

_*_Manga Orphée's hair color

_EXTRA_: After the Hydra appeared is when the rest of the monsters start showing up in continuity with Episode.G's storyline. I can't believe Camus isn't my fave Saint, yet I wrote such a long chapter about himXD I wanted to portray him without delving into his thoughts like the others I wrote about. It's nice to write an action piece once in a while. Please review!


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